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Take chances. Abandon all the rules. Ditch the recipe. Color outside the lines.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Naked.

I’m a pretty honest person.
Ok, that may a bit of an understatement.
I am an EXTREMELY honest person.
I am often the first person to share my failures, to offer up the not so
pretty parts of myself, and tell the straight forward truth (even when it’s not
always asked for). I tend to be slightly
unrefined and sometimes tactless, which aren’t traits I consider attractive
about myself and why I am often in need of loving reminders from those close to
me that, “maybe there’s a nicer way to say that.”

All that being said, I’m not always forthcoming about the
softer parts of who I am. Actually,
frequently the harshness of my honesty becomes my shield that wards off those
not brave enough to face it and see deeper than it. I wear my differentness like an armor,
protecting me from those who can’t see past the surface. I think this makes people think that I am
only calloused, with a hardened heart and no capacity for gentleness. It’s not their fault they see me this way, it’s
the way I present myself – hard, rough, and unyielding.

So, for today’s blog I’m doing something I’ve never done
before. I’m going to tell the world
about my soft spots, because I think it’s time that one of us hard-shelled
people was brave enough to do so.

I absolutely do have feelings. In fact, I have intensely fervent feelings. Why
do you think my armor is so thick? You
don’t protect something that’s not sensitive.
My feelings run deep. I don’t do
shallow when it comes to how I feel. I am an all or nothing kind of
person. If I love you, it’s with
ferocity. If I trust you, it’s with
undying loyalty. If I care for you, it’s
with sincere devotion. This means that
the people I love the most, have to greatest ability to hurt me.

I have experienced heartbreak. Life altering, faith shattering,
heartbreak. I love with all I have which
makes hurt more excruciating in the face of betrayal by those I thought I could
trust. Callouses form from a place a
pain. If you’re reading this, and I love
you, you know it because I’ve told you.
Over and over again to the point where you’re probably tired of hearing
it because I want you to know how much you mean to me, how deep you touch, but
I never know how to say it.

People think that I’m fearless. They call me brave because I share my
failures but they don’t know that I hide behind them. I’m not fearless. I am afraid.
Afraid that people will see my softness and take advantage of it. Afraid that the people I love most will walk
away. Afraid to trust… to really trust
people to see me for all that I am, to see the scared little girl hiding behind
that armor studded with strength. I
crave fearlessness. That’s why I have it
tattooed across my wrist, because I desperately want to live my life unshackled
by fear. I want to free the soft skinned
girl inside chaffed by its bonds.

So I write this, for all those like me, whose skin has been
hardened by the harshness of this world and whose tender heart aches to be
caressed. I write this to say that,
though we are strong, there are delicate parts of us. We are gentle and kind. We love with a passion that few are lucky enough
to experience. If you happen to be one
of those lucky few, know that it is not fleeting, it not easily escaped from,
and it is seldom extinguished.

I am not going to end this with a call to join me. I am not going to give you a verse that says
you should live without fear. I’m not
going to ask you to expose your softness.

I am just going to stand here, armor stripped, naked, and
vulnerable. With fear and multiple
second thoughts about posting this, and I am going to believe that the naked
soft girl that I am, is enough. Is
loved. Is accepted. Is treasured.
Is beautiful. Is His.